


trouble believing

by howlingheartdemigod (helpmeimstuckon)



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Actually having a conversation for once, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Major Character Injury, Rescue Missions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-11-13 23:53:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18041462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helpmeimstuckon/pseuds/howlingheartdemigod
Summary: The cell was small and dark, the air stale, smelling of piss and death. Bruised and bloodied, Beau was trying to accept the fact that she was going to die there.-Beau is kidnapped, and can't possibly fathom a way out.





	trouble believing

**Author's Note:**

> originally a prompt fill on tumblr  
> "Prompt: someone dangerous has taken Beau prisoner, and the M9 have to break in and get her back. Bonus points for angry/worried/protective Yasha and Beau being quietly surprised that anyone thought she was worth rescuing (gotta love negative self talk). Thanks!"  
> find me there at howlingheartdemigod  
> -  
> title from a poem by christopher poindexter
> 
> “i loved  
> the way  
> she touched  
> me
> 
> what more can  
> I say?
> 
> her hands were  
> made from the things  
> we all have trouble  
> believing.”

The cell was small and dark, the air stale, smelling of piss and death. Bruised and bloodied, Beau was trying to accept the fact that she was going to die there. In addition to being generally beat all to hell, her nose was bashed, wrist probably broken, arms rubbed raw from the rusty manacles they’d put on her. She was fairly certain that her ribs were broken as well, and to top the sunday of shitty things, she was becoming more and more lightheaded, like the air in the room wasn’t enough. Like she couldn’t get a breath right. Every gasp was a struggle, ripping through her painfully. She wondered if this is what internal bleeding felt like.

It had been days, probably. She’d been in the dark and the cold for so long, with no evidence that the sun even still existed, that she wasn’t completely sure, but probably days. They’d tried beating the answers they were looking for out of her at first, and it had been a little easier to mark the time by that considering they stuck to some idea of meal times. But three went by, and they realized that she wasn’t going to talk, and had added starving her to the mix, coming in to tempt her with food, or kick the ever loving shit out of her, but she refused to break. 

It helped that she didn’t know what the fuck they were asking about, shouting about some book and a thief. Sounded like The Cobalt Soul collecting intel, taking something with dangerous information out of the hands of those who would use it for chaos instead of order. Unfortunately it wasn’t  _ her  _ intel. So she was of no help to these brutes.

She kept thinking of her friends. Kept praying they knew she hadn’t abandoned them by choice. Kept wondering if they had mourned her loss. Kept hoping she’d get to see Mollymauk when this was all over. 

And, inevitably, without thought or permission, her mind wandered to Yasha. Yasha who she loved. Yasha who she was too much of a coward to say anything to. Yasha who wasn’t even with them when she was taken. Yasha who would never know how she felt. Yasha who wouldn’t know she was dead for who knows how long; days, weeks, months maybe. Yasha who would never feel the same anyway. Who she was abandoning just like Molly had. Like Zuala had. She knew it was selfish, feeling how she felt, but she would have liked to say it, just once. It would have been nice to say.

There was a ruckus outside the door, loud shouting, the sound of a body being slammed to the floor, and the cell door opening. Must be a new round of beating coming for her. The guys who came in for that tended to swing on each other just as often as they did at her. When she had first been taken, she’d made a point of pushing to her feet, straining against the chains, trying to fight back. She didn’t have the strength for that now. She closed her eyes, curling into the corner. Maybe they’d think she was dead. Maybe if they did they’d leave her alone to rot.

She heard the door swing open, heard an oddly familiar reedy gasp of shock, heard steps draw close. Just when she expected violence, soft, almost scared hands came to cradle her face, turn her away from the wall.

“Oh, Gods.” Beau knew that rasp, that accent, that beautiful incredible voice. Her eyes flicked open to see the most beautiful sight she had ever seen kneeling in front of her.

Yasha, eyes dark pools, incredible skeletal wings extended from her back, the ends of her hair turned black, was there. She was right there. She was real. “Yasha?” She rasped softly, the word straining her.

“Hush, dear.” Yasha said softly. Beau watched the ends of her hair return to normal, watched her wings return to her body. Yasha’s hand moved over Beau’s body searching for injuries. Beau’s eyes tracked her, feeling warm white healing energy radiate from her hands over her ribs.

“Why?” Beau asked. “This is… So dangerous, you shouldn’t have…”

Yasha looked up to Beau’s eyes, head tilting. “You think we would have ever left you?” Beau swallowed, and Yasha turned her head, calling behind her. “Jester, she needs healing.”

Beau looked past Yasha for the first time, seeing Jester standing behind, looking relieved, and beyond her, Caleb and Nott both looking grateful, but antsy. Jester came over, kneeling next to Yasha.

“Fjord and Caduceus are keeping a clear path out. Nila came with us. She walked us through a tree.” Jester explained, a little smile coming to her lips.

Beau stared at Jester, feeling the green healing light course through her. She took a breath, ignoring the sting of her bones resetting, ignoring the odd sting of the skin knitting itself back together, focusing on the fact that her friends had followed her into hell. “Jester, this is… these guys are dangerous.”

“Those guys are dead.” Caleb intoned from behind. He had a wild look in his eye, a shake to his voice, a twitch in her finger tip. There was the smell of smoke in the air, Beau realized, that hadn’t been there before.

Before she could fully process what he’d done for her, she was being lifted off the ground. Yasha’s strong arms were around her, cradling her. She felt all too weak and all too safe for her liking, but couldn’t really bring herself to care. They were here, they were protecting her. She was safe. After days of not sleeping, not eating, fighting to keep upright through beatings, after all of that, she was safe.

Beau curled into Yasha’s hold, closing her eyes, and letting the world fall away, content to focus on the pounding of Yasha’s heart, and the fact that she smelled more like home than any building ever could.

 

* * *

 

Beau didn’t realized she’d fallen asleep, passed out really, until she woke up in a warm soft bed, sore beyond words. She cracked open her eyes in the streaming mid morning light, cutting through the open window like a blade. She hummed her protest and squinted her eyes shut again.

“Oh, thank Gods, you’re awake.” The soft rolling tone of Caduceus voice came rolling across the room tp her, and filled her with joy. She didn’t think she’d hear that again. She tilted her head in the direction, giving a little smile. “Don’t strain, I’ll come to you.” She watched the Firbolg stand, a tea cup in his hands, and move carefully across the room, taking big steps over bundles on the ground.

Not bundles, she realized quickly, people, friends. Fjord, Caleb, and Jester were all spread out on the ground. The door to the room was open, so she could only assume Nott had tiptoed out for whatever reason, maybe to get food, hopefully to get food. Beau had never been so hungry in her life. Beau turned her head a little more, and found that Yasha had fallen asleep sitting on the floor, head tilted back against the frame of the bed. She wanted to wake her, tell her to rest in some way that wasn’t going to give her neck problems, but she didn’t want to pull her from sleep either.

Caduceus came to a stop, sitting on the edge of the bed. “You still hurting?” He asked, voice low enough to keep from waking the others.

Beau cleared her throat a little, trying to match his quiet. “Yeah.” she admitted, “I’m hungry as all hell. And thirsty.”

Caduceus nodded. “I’ll get soup on soon. No more injuries though?”

Beau stretched a little, testing things out. “Wrist maybe. But it can just heal, don’t waste your magic on me-”

Before she could finish talking Caduceus had reached to put a hand over hers, warm pink energy radiating out. She felt her bones set back in place. “It’s not a waste.” He replied, giving a little nod.

She stared at him, heart squeezing with concern. “You guys shouldn’t have come. Those guys were bad news. It was stupid and dangerous to come after me.”

Caduceus blinked a few times, frowning. “But you would come after us. You already have come after some of us.” He pointed out. “We couldn’t leave you behind, Beauregard. We could never survive it.”

Pink eyes radiated warmth, then Firbolg pushed to his feet. He picked his way across the room, towards the door. Beau looked around, eyes trailing on the now stirring forms of her friends, and let that roll over her. She looked to Yasha, who had awoken, and was staring at Beau with tears in her eyes.

‘Could never survive it,’ rang in her ears, forcing a nasty truth to surface. She’d been so ready to die for her friends she hadn’t even considered needing to live for them.

 

* * *

 

 

Some time passed, and her friends all woke, each one checking on her. A while later, Caduceus and Nott returned with food. Later still, once there was food in her, someone explained to Beau that they were in Nila’s tribes new home, they’d been kind enough to welcome them in their time of need for helping them in theirs.

Beau nodded, telling herself she’d have to thank Nila. That she owed her big time. She looked around at her friends, something hard blocking her throat. “You guys shouldn’t have come.” She said. “It was…”

“Beau.” Jester cut her off, a spark in her eye that told Beau that going on was a bad idea. “We aren’t going to leave you behind. Ever.”

There was a moment of quiet, when Beau tried to digest that, tried to understand that, but she just couldn’t. Beau dropped her eyes, feeling the bed next to her dip. A large pale hand laid over hers. Beau flipped her hand into Yasha’s grip, and threaded their fingers together.

Caleb cleared his throat. “Perhaps we should let Beau rest.” He suggested, standing, shuffling towards the door, waving the rest of them out.

Beau didn’t really want to be alone, but she didn’t want to bother them either, not after all the trouble they went through. Gradually, they all trailed out. Gradually, Beau and Yasha were left alone. She expected her to follow, she expected to be alone, but Yasha stayed. She swept her thumb along the back of Beau’s hand, letting out a little sigh.

“You okay?” Yasha asked, eyes scanning Beau’s form. Beau kept her eyes on Yasha, her heart pounding in her ears. Yasha looked up to meet her gaze when Beau didn’t respond. “Beauregard?”

“I’m… It’s…” She said, shaking her head. “I… I didn’t think you all were going to come. I thought I was going to die there. I thought…”

Yasha lifted a hand to Beau’s cheek. “Why would you ever, even for a moment, believe that I would let you be left behind?”

Beau felt tears track down her cheeks before she even realized they’d started to pool in her eyes. “I’m not worth this much trouble.”

Yasha’s head shook, and she leaned closer. There was something earnest behind her gaze, something honest and desperate. “You are worth more than the world. If you were ever taken from me again, I will happily tear it apart to get you back.”

Beau let out a broken breath, collapsing over, her head falling on Yasha’s shoulder.

Yasha held her, leaning them both back into the soft bed. “I’ve got you.” she heard Yasha promise. “I’m here.”

Normally, when Yasha promised that, Beau would wonder for how long. Normally she’d scan the sky for clouds. But this time, she just tucked her nose into the crook of Yasha’s neck and breathed her in, smelling rain, and lightning, and lavender, and home.

 

* * *

 

Beau woke hours later, as the sun was setting, and she was curled into Yasha’s side. Which meant Yasha was still there, leaning against the headboard, fingers carding through Beau’s hair. It was new, it was unexpected. They didn’t do this. They danced around the issue. They didn’t talk about it. Beau didn’t push her to talk about it. It wasn’t important, really. Beau wanted to say something, but she was plenty happy with how things were. No need to complicate it. But this, the touching, the waking up in bed, the kind words Yasha’d spoken it was all new, it was all complicated. Beau stretched, and moved to sit up. “Hey.” She said.

Yasha moved to help Beau sit up, a small soft smile coming to her lips. “Hello.” Her fingers skimmed over Beau’s wrist, no longer broken, but faintly bruised, then up her arm, like she was trying to commit her to memory. Her fingers stilled to hold the back of her neck, but her eyes kept moving. Beau watched her, tracking her gaze as it skimmed over her shoulder and down the line of her back. Watched it come up the curve of her waist, and then caught on her jaw. Then she moved to her face, smiling a little when their gazes caught, before scanning down, sweeping over Beau’s cheek bones, tripping on her nose, settling for all too long on the curve of Beau’s lips. Beau would  have returned the favor, but she didn’t need to. She already knew Yasha like she knew her own reflection. 

Yasha sighed, hand drifting down her arm again. “I’ll go get Caduceus, you should eat.”

Beau flipped her hand to grab Yasha’s, gaze pleading. “Not yet.” She was scared, terrified, that Yasha would have to  go again, that The Storm Lord would call her away. She understood why, understood that the sort of saving he’d done for her wasn’t something that could be ignored. Beau was thankful, even, to him for saving her. For keeping her alive. For bringing her onto the path that let them meet. But just once, she felt like being selfish, she felt like keeping Yasha as long as she could. She tried to convey all of that, with a gentle squeeze of their tangled fingers. “Stay.”

Yasha looked down at their entwined hands, nodding. “I will.” the promise wasn’t forever, Beau knew. Forever wasn’t something Yasha could give yet, maybe not ever. Yasha swallowed, eyes trained on their hands. “I… I was so terrified. I followed the call of the Storm Lord, and… normally he leads me to people who need help, or people who have hurt others, so when he lead me to the Nein… He lead me to our friends, and I looked around, and you were gone, and I just… was so terrified that this was a mission of vengeance. This was going to be taking a life for the life they took from us. I told myself it wasn’t but… I thought you might be gone. I thought I may have lost another love of mine. And then I realized that despite all my work, all my trying to distance myself from you all, from you, Beauregard, it was too late. But it’s… It’s not something… It’s not fair to you, because I can’t… Zuala was my wife, and I’m not… I have not healed from that loss, and I don’t know if I ever will in a way where I can love you how you deserve. It is not fair to you to ask for you to wait and see if I do.”

Beau stayed quiet through her words, she listened. Then she nodded a little. “It’s too late for me too, Yash. I thought I was going to die in there.” Beau said, tears coming to her eyes despite herself. “You know what I kept thinking of?”

Yasha shook her head.

“You.” There was a moment of pause, of Beau watching Yasha take a broken breath, then nod. When spoke again, Beau’s voice more earnest than she remembered she had the capacity for. “I’m… I’m not good at waiting, but for you, I can. For you, anything. So, take your time. If you ever get to a place where you can love me how you’d like, let me know. If you decide that…” Beau sighed, dropping her own eyes to their hands. “If this isn’t it for you, that’s fine too. But, as long as you need to decide, I’m here.”

Yasha’s gaze lifted, and Beau tilted her head to meet it. There was something defiant behind the multi colored gaze. “What if I never make up my mind?” She said, a little bit of a challenge to her tone, like she was trying to get her to reconsider.

“That’s fine.” Beau shrugged, regretting it with how it strained her sore form. She bit back the pain and focused. “Yasha, you’re it. This is enough for me. How ever you want me.”

Yasha stared at her. And Beau almost wanted to kiss her, to hold her, to feel her heartbeat against her fingertips. But she realized she was content holding hands. She would have been content just seeing Yasha with her own eyes.

Yasha nodded, squeezing their hands. “You should eat. I’ll go get something.”

Beau nodded her agreement, but didn’t let go. Yasha’s thumb traced a scar on the back of Beau’s hand, and they fell silent, feeling the one point of heat, of contact.

They stayed like that, quiet, content, until Beau’s stomach growled loud enough for them to hear, causing a roll of laughter through them. Yasha got up, and moved towards the door, only breaking their touch when the distance between them grew too far to reach. “I’ll be right back.” Yasha promised, looking over her shoulder.

Beau gave a little nod, a smile on her lips. “I’ll be here.”


End file.
